


cryptophasia

by vulcanistics



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Doppelganger, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanistics/pseuds/vulcanistics
Summary: The secret language of twins.(Alternatively: There's more truth to those comments about how Florian Thauvin and Julian Draxler look like each other than one would have imagined.)





	cryptophasia

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started out with Lu and me talking about how similar Julian and Flo looked and I probably would not have had the motivation to write this, but then I got an anon in my Tumblr inbox and we started talking about Jule and Flo, and well, brothers au/twins au/cryptophasia au was born. a lot of the scenes and dialogue was inspired by brainstorming conversations with lu!
> 
> Obviously, this fic is fictional and not true, since no, Julian and Florian were not born on the same day or in the same place. logically and logistically, there are loopholes that cannot be explained but let's just ignore that for now.
> 
> Also, you don't have to check these out but here's a bunch of things about jules and flo (and steve): [julian and flo during psg vs om](http://kayhavertz.tumblr.com/post/179581223084/draxlergif-181028-psg-vs-marseille), tweets about julian and florian ([x](https://twitter.com/MadeiraCF/status/1003664264773718016), [x](https://twitter.com/ELD_XediiS/status/1056648437293297665)), [this tumblr post](http://kayhavertz.tumblr.com/post/180108568759/kayhavertz-the-mystery-thickens-brothers-au), and [flo talking about steve](http://kayhavertz.tumblr.com/post/179794374959/bebfr-florian-thauvin-speaking-about-his).

“Come to France during the holidays,” Florian tells him over the phone and Julian pauses in the middle of twirling the phone cord around his index finger. “I’m serious, Julian. You should come. We should meet Gabriella together so that she can see what her children have grown up into.”

Julian frowns at the mention of their birth mother. 

The last time he spoke to Gabriella, she had casually asked him if he would ever come to see her in France. Julian had shrugged it off because it had seemed like a distant impossibility. But he had been thinking about that conversation for a while, and now Flo was inviting him to France.

Maybe this was the sign he had been waiting for, an indication that he should sit down with his parents and ask them if they would be willing to let him go to France for a few days. They’d probably say yes since it was for Florian and Gabriella, and well, they were the ones who had encouraged him to keep in touch with his birth mother and his brother.

Finances could be a problem though.

Julian flips through the pages of the dictionary in his lap, looking for the words for his answer, and Florian scoffs on the other end of the line.

“Is your French still poor?”

“Like your German is any better.”

“You’re the one who insisted that we talk in French so that you can get better grades at school. Not that I've seen any improvement in your French."

Julian lets the teasing comment slide and goes on, "If I do come to France this year, then all this French will not have gone to waste.”

“So you'll come?” Florian asks, and Julian hides a smile at the excitement in his voice.  

“I’ll try.”

“Great! I'll tell my parents. Or at least my mama, since I'm with her this week. Oh, don't mention this to Gabriella. We should surprise her.”

“I didn’t say it will happen. I have to ask.” Because it was entirely possible that his parents would turn him down and Julian didn't want to disappoint Flo.

Florian snorts and makes a dismissive sound, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, see you soon. Bye Julian.”

“Bye,” Julian says, keeping the phone handset back in place and sliding into his chair at the kitchen table.

“Was that Florian?” Patrick asks, looking up from his homework.

“Yeah, he wants me to visit him in France.”

“You should go, Julian. Would be nice.” Patrick says as he twiddles a pencil between his fingers. He smiles at the pensive expression on Julian’s face, “He’s your twin, I’m sure it won’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be. And you should meet him at least once in your life.”

\---

“So, you and Drax, huh?” Florian says as casually as possible.

Presnel makes a sputtering sound, coughing hysterically into his napkin. Flo exchanges a glance with Steve who hides his smile behind his hands. 

Maybe asking Presnel about Julian in the middle of dinner wasn’t his best idea.

“How do you know about me and Drax?” Presnel hisses, staring with wide-eyes at Florian. “Did Areola or Kylian tell you? Are you gossiping about me?”

Steve bends forward in his chair and curls his hand on Flo’s thigh under the table. “Kim, everyone in this team is always gossiping about everyone else.”

“Okay, true,” Presnel concedes but he frowns and half-heartedly brandishes his fork at Flo. “Still. How do you know? And why do you even care?”

Flo considers his options.

He could drop the whole “we’re actually biological twins who got adopted into different families in two different countries” on Presnel, who would probably think he’s joking. Or he would believe him, and well, Flo’s certain Deschamps isn't going to appreciate it, if Presnel goes into a state of shock a few days before they are meant to fly to Russia. 

He could be honest and say that Julian told him, and leave out of all the other details, like how Flo had cackled for ten solid minutes when he found out about that Presnel and Julian had officially begun to call themselves "boyfriends."

He shrugs and takes a bite of his pasta, chewing it slowly, as he watches frustration etch itself into the lines of Presnel’s forehead.

“He phoned me the other day. Mentioned it then.”

“Bro, Flo, what? it’s almost been two years. How the fuck are the two of you friends?”

Florian smirks, “Yeah. I don’t know either, you should ask Julian.”

“I have! He keeps saying he met you here and there. What does that even mean?” Presnel whines.

“No idea.”

Florian giggles as Presnel turns away from him with a huff and grumbles quietly to himself.

Steve leans closer to him and whispers into his ear, “What about your warning for him?”

“Later, Julian needs to tell him the truth first. I mean, what's the point of warning him if he doesn't know who it's coming from,” Flo mumbles behind his hand.

He makes a mental note to text Julian later in the night. Presnel deserved to know his boyfriend’s complicated family history. And Flo deserved the right to warn Presnel about the consequences of hurting his twin brother.

\---

Flo's curled up with Steve on the couch, watching the German National Team celebrate their World Cup victory on the television screen, when he feels Steve shift next to him, straightening up. Florian lifts his head from Steve's shoulder, ready to ask if everything's okay, if he needs something for his back, if he should go get the electric pillow, but his mouth dries up at the intensity of Steve's gaze.

“What is it?” Flo asks, tilting his head to get a better angle to look at Steve.

Steve shakes his head and points to the screen, “Number fourteen. He's your brother, isn't he?”

Flo startles and forgets about the bowl of popcorn that's lying between them. The popcorn spills to the floor, the plastic bowl rolling away from the couch and coming to a stop near the wall.

“How– how do you know that?” Florian asks with wide-eyes. He grimaces at his own words, belatedly realising that he probably should have asked Steve why he would say something like that instead of indirectly confirming it.

Steve shrugs and smiles warmly, “It made sense, I guess? He looks kinda like you.”

Florian huffs a laugh and looks at the image of Julian on the screen. “It’s a long story, but yeah, he's my little brother. My twin.”

In a few hours, he's going to call Julian, who will probably be half-way to drunk, and congratulate him and then give him a heart attack with the news that Steve figured them out.

On screen, Julian hugs one of his teammates and the gold medal glimmers around his neck.

Florian settles back into the curve of Steve's side. “Maybe that will be us in four years.”

\---

Florian spots Julian the moment he exits Frankfurt Airport. Julian’s leaning against the railing, holding a placard with Flo’s name on it while he scrolls through his phone.

“Julian!” Flo yells, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Julian looks up, startled, and though his twin is wearing sunglasses, he knows exactly when Julian’s eyes finally settle on him–the calm blankness of his face breaking into a delighted grin.

Julian raises his hand to wave at Florian, “Welcome to Germany!”

Florian laughs and rolls his eyes. He takes his time to walk towards Julian, using the minutes to study Julian’s grinning face. They had always had different eye colours, but they had also always looked similar to each other, at least they did until now. 

Their middle teenage years had crept up on them, and looking at each other wasn’t like looking into a mirror anymore. The angles of Julian’s face didn’t match Flo’s anymore.

He’s not sure when it happened but sometime between Julian’s visit to France and Skype video calls and emails, Julian had become his own person. His flight hadn’t met any turbulence on the journey from France to Germany but Florian still feels like a part of his childhood got lost in the jetwash. It makes Flo feel uneasy and he smiles nervously when he comes to a stop in front of Julian, the railing separating the two of them.

“Hey, Flo. Good flight?” Julian asks with a smile.

Flo’s about to answer when his brain zeroes in on one of the main reasons why the changes in his twin’s appearance were making him feel strange, and it was less to do with his face and more to do with his height. 

Florian gasps and his bag slides from his shoulder and he takes a step backwards. “No, no, Julian. That’s it. I’m taking the very next flight back to France. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Julian asks, looking at Flo over the top off his sunglasses.

Flo huffs and crosses his arms, “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about, asshole.”

Julian grins brightly. “Sure I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“I don’t see you for a year and you’ve managed to become even more unbearable,”

“That’s not the only thing I’ve become though.”

Florian groans and rolls his eyes at Julian, “Get that smug grin off your face. I’m still your big brother.”

“Even if I’m the taller twin now?”

“If I don’t acknowledge it, it hasn’t happened.”

Julian leans across the railing to pull Florian into a tight hug, “Turns out you don’t make the rules of the universe. It’s official now, I’m the superior twin.”

“I swear, I’m going to turn around and fly back to France.”

“No, you’re not. Come on, let’s go home. My family has been dying to meet you.”

\---

“England is cold and cruel in many ways,” Florian’s voice comes through the phone and Julian immediately feels more awake. He checks the time on his phone and frowns. 3:45 a.m. in Germany which means 2:45 in England, which meant Flo couldn’t sleep.

“Sounds right,” Julian jokes and smiles at the huff of laughter from Florian.

“I’m thinking of going back.”

“To Ligue 1?“

“To Marseille.”

“You want to go back? Already?” Julian asks, unable to keep the note of incredulity from his voice.

“Don’t you?”

Julian thinks about his bed back at home, about bending down to kiss his mother on the cheek, about the Veltins-Arena growing bigger as you walked towards it, about how his heart still bleeds blue and white. He sighs and rolls over to his side. Outside his window, Wolfsburg is silent.

Nothing ever seems to be enough for him.

“Not yet, someday maybe, but not yet. I’m going to go abroad first, Flo, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I just wanna go home. Back to Marseille. And– and I miss Steve,” Florian mumbles plaintively.

“Have you spoken to Steve?”

“Yeah, obviously. I talk to him every day, Julian.”

“Every day, huh? You don’t talk to me every day. And I’m your twin,” Julian grumbles under his breath.

“And he’s my boyfriend,” retorts Flo.

Julian can easily picture Flo's pleased smile and his eyes shining with wonder and tenderness on the other end of the line–a reaction that always cropped up whenever Steve was mentioned. Florian had been dating Steve for almost two years now, but it had taken a while for them to get to this stage.

Two years ago, things had been different and difficult, and _Florian and Julian_ had been different. Back then, Florian had spent years of repressing all thoughts about sexuality and love. And then, Steve Mandanda had walked into his life, and suddenly, he was faced with feelings that refused to go away. Back then, Julian had finally come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t strictly attracted to women, but he hadn’t figured out how to break the news to his twin. He had kept quiet and hadn’t said anything and then after much drama, Flo had transferred to Marseille.

Julian had watched from the sidelines as his twin flung himself headfirst into a crush that he wasn’t ready to acknowledge and he had belatedly realised that they really needed to talk. He remembers how he had finally found the courage to just tell Flo the truth about himself and how that particular phone conversation had reduced both of them to relieved tears. He remembers how he kept mumbling reassurances to Flo over the phone, how Flo had sobbed, how it had felt like a weight off their shoulders.

“Julian?” Florian’s voice pulls him back into the present.

Julian shakes his head, there was no point getting lost in the past. “Sorry, got distracted. Anyway, what does Steve think? About you coming back?”

“He told me to do what felt right but not to come back if it was about him.”

Honestly, Steve Mandanda was the most sensible. “And is it about him?”

There’s a long pause before Florian speaks up again, “No, it’s about me. I’m ready to go back.”

Julian swallows the lump in his throat and smiles bitterly in the darkness of his room. It’s not that Julian’s envious, it’s just that Flo’s restlessness had shifted and settled into something patient and satisfied, and Julian’s not sure if he’s ever going to be able to experience that feeling himself.

\---

“Did you have to be such a dick? Is this what Paris has done to you?” Flo grumbles, standing with his arms on his hips as he waits for Julian to remove his jersey.

Julian laughs and throws his jersey at Florian’s head, “It’s been almost two years, please get over it. Not everything that goes wrong is because of Paris. Sometimes, it’s just because of Kylian and me.”

“So. Basically, I can still blame Paris.”

He watches Julian pull the Marseille jersey over his head and crane his neck to grin at the ‘Thauvin’ printed across his back. Steve comes to stand beside Flo, slinging his arm around his shoulders and Florian instinctively leans into him.

“Hello, Draxler.”

Julian flashes a bright smile at Steve, “Hi, Steve. Sorry about that, Steve.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” Steve says, shoving at Julian’s shoulder. “Though maybe someone should have told you that before you ran up to antagonise the fans.”

“It was great though, wasn’t it?” Julian grins.

His tone is light and easy but Flo knows Julian, he’s technically known him since he was a baby, and he recognises the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. He knows the desperate desire for affirmation and recognition that Julian never outright asks for. It’s not an unfamiliar desire.

He swallows the bitterness of the loss and pats Julian’s shoulder with a smile. “It was amazing. I’m sure Presnel is lying in bed, somewhere in Paris, screaming your name.”

“Oh my god! Shut up, Flo!” Julian shrieks with a pained expression and Florian away from him.

\---

“Something’s up with you,” Florian declares, perching on Julian's table and swinging his legs as he digs into his plate of pasta.

Julian pushes his chair back to frown at his twin,  “What do you mean?”

“I don't know? You seem happier? Which is a good thing, obviously. You really love Paris, huh?”

Julian shifts his gaze from Florian to the window above the kitchen sink. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower glitters against the Parisian sky. It's been four months since he joined Paris Saint-Germain and moved to Paris. Paris – it's beating heart, connected lanes, romantic grandeur, elegant charm and beautiful people – is strange but familiar, welcoming and unnerving all at once.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.”

Florian hums contemplatively under his breath, “Okay, but I can tell that you're not telling me something. So, what's up?”

Julian huffs a laugh under his breath and smiles at his twin. Florian scrunches up his nose at Julian's lack of an answer. Flo will get it eventually, he always does.

“Oh my god,” Florian exclaims suddenly, mouth dropping open as he stares wide-eyed at Julian. “It's not  _just_ Paris and PSG. You've met someone, haven't you? Someone you have a crush on?”

Julian smiles shyly and bites his lip, “Kinda. Met him in January though.”

 _“Fuck!_ He’s PSG? Wait, that means I know him?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me it's not Rabiot,” Florian says, pulling a face.

 _“No!_ Why would it be Rabiot? No, _god_ _,_ it's, uhm, okay, hang on, you can't say anything to him though.”

Florian rolls his eyes and whines, “What’s the point of me then?”

“Flo, don't you dare.”

“Ugh, fine, you're so boring. Okay, if it's not Adrien, then who is it? Trapp? Verratti? Ha, is it Kimpembe?”

“Uh, yeah. Presnel. It’s Presnel.” Julian mumbles.

Florian stares at him for a minute before bursting into laughter, “No! Oh my god, Julian? No way. Your taste in men is as bad as your taste in clubs.”

Julian scowls, “What’s wrong with Presnel?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’ve just have been dying to use that line on you since you came to France,” Florian grins and neatly dodges Julian's attempt at hitting him by jumping off the table. 

He rests his forearms on the back of a chair and continues, “Presnel's great, he's lots of fun, cool dude. But, what the fuck? Presnel Kimpembe? Really, Jule, really? I mean, he’s– no offence to him, but he’s really loud and hilarious. And I didn’t think he was your type.”

“Flo, you thought I had a crush on Rabiot. I don’t even want to know what you think my type is,” Julian says firmly. “And Presnel’s nice, okay? I like him.”

Flo groans dramatically before flopping down on to the chair and burying his head in his hands. “It's bad enough that you're a Parisian, you're bringing a Parisian into our home.”

“Flo, we don't even live together. We've literally never lived together and before you say anything, no, holidays and whatever happened before we were born doesn't count. Also, you're friends with Presnel, so stop acting like you're actually bothered by the PSG thing,”

“It's the principle that counts. You're soiling the family's heritage and tradition.”

Julian rolls his eyes at Florian’s theatrics. “What family heritage? You're not even from Marseille. You grew up in Orléans. Your first real club was Grenoble. Gabriella was born in Lyon. So, what the fuck are you talking about? And besides, Schalke is–”

“Shush. Let me be bitter about my younger brother falling in love with a damn Parisian.”

“Hey! I’m not in love, it’s just a crush,” Julian protests weakly.

Florian just laughs.  

 ---

“You weren’t that bad,” Florian says and Julian lifts his head up to meet his twin’s gaze in the mirror.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“This is the Stade de France, you’re in my territory, Jules. And really, there are only so many places you could disappear to here. Trust you to pick the toilets that most people don’t even know about.” When Julian only shrugs and doesn’t say anything, Florian sighs, “Your boyfriend’s looking for you.”

As if on cue, someone flings open the door, startling the both of them, and Presnel rushes in with a worried look in his eyes. He freezes at the sight of Julian and Florian and he frowns, fingers curling into fists as he drops his hands to his side.

“Am I interrupting something?” Presnel asks with a strained voice, looking between Florian and Julian.

Florian shakes his head, “No, I was just going. I’ll leave you two alone.”

Florian smiles at Presnel and squeezes his shoulder as he walks past him. He shuts the door behind and Presnel goes to latch it before turning to look back at Julian.

“Hey babe, I asked Thilo where you were and he said that you’d just disappeared down this hallway. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, the locker room was a bit of a mess when I entered. Didn’t want to hear it right then, but I’ll go back soon. I have to be there for debriefing and feedback,” Julian says with a sigh, turning to look at Presnel. He leans against the basin countertop and the cold marble digs into his lower back

“Are you less sad now?” Presnel asks, slotting in between Julian’s legs and draping his arms around Julian’s shoulder.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Julian smiles.

Presnel snorts with laughter before his gaze turns serious again. He bites down on his lip and asks hesitantly, “So. What was Thauvin doing here?”

Julian grimaces and digs the toe of his shoe into the edge of a tile. “He was checking up on me.”

“Huh, that’s– Because of your weird friendship? You know the one that both of you refuse to explain to me?” Presnel says with a pout.

Julian leans forward and loosely rests his hands just above the waistbands of Presnel’s shorts.  “Yeah. Because of that,” Julian mumbles against Presnel’s lips before kissing him briefly.

“You ever going to tell me more about that?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I can take complicated. Honestly, babe, it’s been two years and you still haven’t told me how you had Flo’s number in your phone before you even came to PSG. And let me tell you, I’ve used the past few months to come up with some pretty outrageous theories,” Presnel declares as he cards his fingers through Julian’s hair.

Julian giggles and presses the back of his hand to his mouth, “You have theories?”

“Yeah. Were you penpals in middle school? Is he your long-lost relative or something? Your blood brother? Did you two get involved in some weird ritual and pledge your loyalty to each other?” Julian makes a choked sound and stares at Presnel wide-eyed. Presnel stops recounting his theories to frown at him, “Hang on – babe, why are you looking at me like that? I’m not actually right, am I?

“I mean, you’re close but not quite right,” Julian replies.

“What the fuck, Julian? When did you meet Flo to perform a blood ritual with him? And more importantly, why did you?”

”No, no, not that one. The thing you said earlier. Relative?”

Presnel’s eyebrows shoot up, “You’re related to Florian? _How?”_

There’s a lurch of worry in his stomach, he’s known Presnel for almost two years now and they have been dating for only ten months, and here he was, about to tell Presnel the one secret he hadn’t divulged as yet. He’s sure Presnel wouldn’t take it too badly, he might be shocked and demand detailed explanations, but he’d understand why Julian had taken so long to tell him, wouldn’t he?

Julian smiles tightly, “That’s the complicated part. Flo is my, uh– Ha, how do I say this? Uhm. Okay, uh, Florian is my, uh, he’s my twin brother. My biological twin brother.”

Presnel huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Drax, you’re hundred per cent fucking with me right now, right?”

“No, I’m not,” asserts Julian and watches as Presnel takes a step away from him, bringing his arms to rest on Julian’s biceps. “Florian and I are twins, fraternal twins, and he was born seven minutes before me. It’s complicated because we were adopted into two different families, two different nations actually. So yeah, that’s what Flo was doing here. Checking on his little brother.”

“Oh my god, holy shit, so that’s how Flo knew we were dating?! Babe, this is a Hollywood movie plot line!” And you’re right, it is complicated and I don’t understand it but thank you for telling me. You still need to explain everything to me in detail though.” Presnel says with a delighted laugh before curling his hand behind Julian’s neck to pull him into a searing kiss.

Suddenly, Presnel breaks the kiss and gasps, “Babe, wait. Does that mean you could have possibly played for _France_?”

\---

“Thank you for getting me tickets to the match. You played very well.” Gabriella says, kissing Julian on his cheeks before settling into the chair opposite him.

They’re seated in the corner of a small restaurant in a relatively quiet area of Paris, one that Kevin had recommended to him when he’d asked him to suggest places to eat where he wouldn’t run into the press. Kevin had helpfully supplied him a list of five cafes and restaurants and had also slipped in the location of a flower shop in case Julian wanted to impress his date with flowers.

Julian hadn’t really bothered telling Kevin who exactly he needed to take out to dinner, Kevin didn’t need to know the details about Julian’s birth mother, but still, the suggestion of flowers wasn’t a bad one. Gabriella had been thrilled by the bouquet, sniffing the roses and beaming at him.

Julian looks up from the menu to find Gabriella watching him with a gentle smile. He raises an eyebrow and Gabriella shakes her head.

“I wish Florian could have made it.”

“Yeah, he wanted to but he had a match at home today. There was no way he could get out of that without raising eyebrows.”

“Can’t believe both of you also ended up as footballers.”

“Why? Was our father a footballer?” Julian drops the question casually and when Gabriella’s lips narrow into a tight line, he’s fairly certain he’s crossed an invisible line. 

“Julian–”

“Yeah, I know, he was a nobody and you don’t know anything about him and he’s not relevant to us,” Julian chants from memory, thinking of all the times Gabriella had avoided answering questions about their birth father.

The corners of Gabriella’s soften and she laughs under her breath. “He’s not relevant, for sure. But he wasn’t a footballer. Football was more my game until I put it aside and decided that law was more suited to me.”

Julian gasps, “What? Why didn’t you tell us that before?”

“Neither of you asked,” Gabriella answers, shrugging her shoulders, and Julian feels shame coil in his stomach because she’s not wrong. 

They had asked her questions – Why did she give them up? Why did she ask their parents to stay in touch? Why did the agency separate twins? Would Julian have ended up playing for France if he hadn’t been adopted by a German family? Would Florian and he have turned out differently if they had been raised by Gabriella? Through the years, Gabriella had done her best to answer them all, and sometimes, the answers were baffling and sometimes, the answers made their chests hurt.

Twenty-three years of knowing about Florian and Gabriella and Julian thinks that maybe Florian and he should be asking her different questions.

He remembers being twelve-years-old and reading a letter Gabriella had posted to him for Christmas. He remembers being excited and wanting to know everything about his birth mother but his shyness had eventually won and he had drafted a generic reply. He thinks of all the questions he’d left unasked.

Julian reaches his hand across the table and fiddles with a rose petal. He smiles at Gabriella, “Did you like it? Football, I mean?”

Gabriella scoffs, “I loved it. And I still do.”

\---

“Is your dad not at home?” Julian asks as he sits cross-legged on the mattress by Flo’s bed.

Florian shrugs, “He’s working late. He knows you’re here though, I told him you were arriving today. And he’s left money if we want to call for pizza or something.”

“Are we meeting Gabriella today? I still think we should make an appointment with her secretary or something. I don’t think two teenage boys can randomly walk into her office.”

“Jule, why the fuck would we call the secretary when we have her number? I’ll just call and let her know that you’re here. Watch how she cancels all her appointments just to see us.”

“She is our birth mother. So. Yeah. I’d be disappointed if she didn’t,” Julian says.

He watches Flo fall on to his back and hold up his fingers to the light. There’s an awkward silence in the room and Julian uses the time to study the layout of Florian’s room. It’s not that different from his own in Gelsenkirchen.

“Julian,” Florian quietly says, rolling over to look at Julian. “Julian, I can show you around Orléans today. And maybe we could play football together. If you want to, that is?”

Julian feels the tension that had been gathering in his chest from the moment he had taken off from Frankfurt Airport subside.

He smiles shyly, “One-on-one? Bet I could beat you.”

“Doubtful, but you're on.”

Whether they spoke to each other in hesitant and uncertain English, or German or French, football was a language they could both understand, a language that allowed them to communicate with each other. It was a language that flowed freely and easily from their hearts.

 

 _fin._  


**Author's Note:**

> Here's a scene that Lu and I talked about but which didn't make it into the fic (I was also supposed to write about WC2018 but it made me sad, so maybe in the future, I could write more drabbles in this verse):
> 
> [12:47 AM, 15/10/2018] jules: flo what did you say to my boyfriend. he's scared  
> [12:47 AM, 15/10/2018] flo: I only warned him, it's normal between brothers. I guess you could do the same to steve  
> [12:47 AM, 15/10/2018] jules: flo, _i_ am scared of steve  
> [12:47 AM, 15/10/2018] flo: yes, you’re also five years too late
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it or if you have thoughts, do leave kudos, comments, and critique, thank you! I'm also on [tumblr.](https://www.kayhavertz.tumblr.com)


End file.
